


The Curse of Thebes

by rivlee



Series: All the Difference [5]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-12 02:14:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivlee/pseuds/rivlee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Auctus is not an easy man to love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Curse of Thebes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kuriositet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuriositet/gifts).



> For a Get Me prompt as requested on tumblr.

Auctus never believed in the curse of coming from Thebes, but tied up in a pirate’s brig for Heracleo’s mere amusement and desire to perform a sea wedding was lending belief to the cause. He knew he was to pay dearly for the price of freeing Naevia, but he never quite pictured the cost to be this. When he got out of these chains, he was going to personally cut that smile off Castus’ face. Fucking treacherous Cilicians. He should’ve known better. 

“I’m looking for a veritable bear of a man,” a voice echoed from the top deck. “You can’t have missed him; horrible frown on his face at everything. He growls rather than speaks, and when he does speak clearly it’s to boast about some event in his past, where he slew a lion and three bears. I think he’s compensating for something.”

Auctus banged his head against the wooden beams of the ship. Of all the rebels to send after him, they _had_ to pick that fucking burr on his ass. Stolen Roman legion military boots reverberated on the wooden stairs and Auctus opened his eyes to Duro’s mocking smile.

“I requested Nasir,” Auctus said.

“He’s a little busy guarding our boundaries,” Duro said. He jingled a set of keys in his hands. “If the decision was mine, I’d leave you to rot, or marry the sea monster Heracleo has arranged for you. Alas, Elpis holds some affection for your face, and I would not have our little goddess so displeased. A fierce temper on that one not to be roused.”

Auctus glared at him through the iron bars. Duro had cut his hair since Auctus’ capture, and looked a completely different man; older, somehow, even with the youthful light in his face. He closed his eyes to banish the image of clenching the soft hair between his fingers.

Auctus rattled his chains. “Anytime you feel ready, pup.”

No teasing words answered him, and Auctus opened his eyes to see Duro study the hold. He looked sick, as hesitant fingers traced the bolt rings that held chains in place. “Was Agron brought here in such a ship?”

“Most likely,” Auctus said. “This is the kind the slavers favor.” He laughed. “Did you expect him, a captured man to be sold as a slave, to be transported in luxury? Picture this whole room filled to the brimming with men and women, sometimes children, in various stages of anger, fear, and on the road to dead. Then you shall imagine your brother’s journey to Roman shores.”

“You are an ass,” Duro declared. He quickly unlocked the cell door and tugged far too vigorously on Auctus’ arm when he unbound the manacles. From the mutinous scowl on his face, Auctus knew this was not part of their simple jests. He’d truly offended Duro this time.

It made _Auctus_ angry. Duro was a grown man, who was now to see the world in all its horrors and glories. A simple truth should not see him pouting like a spoilt babe. 

“Would you prefer I lie to you? Give you that story of your brother as honored guest on his sea journey to the auction block? You are not a child, Duro.”

“ _Some_ things should always be spoken of with care,” Duro said. He shook his head. “I should’ve known better than to expect more from you. A mistake not to be so repeated.”

Awkward silence fell between them as they left the ship. Duro did not offer his hands, or his words, and Auctus did not request them. There were no others waiting for them at the docks which meant Duro must’ve come alone. It almost made Auctus seethe to think they’d risk Duro’s safety so casually. Even if Castus and Heracelo could be called friends, they were unknown to all the other rebels. 

“We have enough coin for you to stay at one of the taverns, if you require rest” Duro addressed the waves. 

“Do you not mean for both of us?” Auctus asked.

“I will leave Neapolis as soon as you make your decision,” Duro said. He looked to the sky. “I assume you know the way to the camp, since you’ve traveled it so often to meet Castus. I promised Elpis I would tell her a story before the nightfall, and I do no seek to turn from that promise, even if it _does_ become a lie only fit for a child to believe.”

Auctus sighed. “Duro, I am tired. I have little desire to fight with you.”

“Then decision is made,” Duro said. He threw a bag at Auctus’ head. “I will tell them you should return by next evening.”

Duro disappeared into the crowd milling about the dock before Auctus could follow him. With his cloak on, and locks newly shorn, it was impossible to find him.

********************

Auctus gave up on sleep half-way through the evening, paid the owner for his room fee, and started the walk back to the camp. It would be dangerous to most, even the experienced guides, but Auctus had made this journey more often by the light of the moon than the sun. He reached their sanctuary just before mid-day, returning a full fortnight after his negotiations with Castus’ captain had turned to a mock capture and ransom.

“Pietros wishes to speak with you,” Nasir said as Auctus approached the first guard post. Lugo, one of the Germans who had traveled with Duro and Diona, sat beside him. He frowned down at Auctus from his place in the trees, hands menacingly tossing a rock back-and-forth. 

“Does Agron also wish to break words?” Auctus asked.

Nasir shrugged. “That will depend on your actions. Chadara and Duro have both stalled him for the time being, but he is displeased. He remains in meeting with Spartacus and his leaders.”

Auctus knew he would have to report to them soon, but Duro and Pietros were of greater concern. Auctus still had yet to find true inspiration in Spartacus’ cause. They had the same goals, but perhaps different reasons for going about it. He’d discussed it with the others, the conflict of being both a slave, and of Rome, longer than the two main leaders of the rebellion. Time and Fate would be the best factors in determining where Auctus’ ultimate loyalties would fall.

He found Pietros tending to the weapons with intense care. Auctus waited until the blades were sheathed before he cleared his throat.

“You’ve returned later than expected,” Pietros said. “I thought certain you would not let Duro traverse the woods on his own.”

“He is a grown man,” Auctus said. He was already weary of such talk, since he had argued such things with himself on the walk from Neapolis. “Is this what you wish to chastise me for?”

“Duro is not Barca,” Pietros said in reply.

“Obviously,” Auctus answered as he began to pace.

“Nor is he Castus,” he continued.

Auctus stopped his pacing. “Is there a point to this Pietros?”

“It is not right to treat him as the ones who came before, or to offer penance for their slights and crimes. You _know_ what your fellow gladiators did to Diona, but do you still wish to hear it with detail because a grown man should be able to handle such?”

“It is different,” he insisted.

“Yes,” Pietros agreed, “Duro and Agron are far closer than you have ever been with your newly reunited child. You did not grow up together. You do not have the first-hand knowledge of how she handles pain, despair, or desperation. Duro knows his brother better than any other, perhaps even Agron himself, and yet when he had _one_ moment of horror as he vividly imagined _how_ his brother came to be a slave, you chastise him for it.” Pietros sighed. “Were you aware Agron had a crippling fear of enclosed spaces as a child? He could handle the crowded hut they called a home, but if trapped near a small pocket of brush, or hidden where sunlight could not be seen, he panicked.”

“I did not know,” Auctus said. 

Pietros nodded. “I figured as much. Barca often kept truths from me, to protect me, because he loved me. I would get angry with him about it, frustrated when I could see the lie in his eyes, but I did not call him out each time I knew he spoke false. There are times the lies must be spoken for both. It is not good to call one a child when they know the value of the difference.” He patted Auctus’ shoulder. “You have apologies to make, and some groveling to perform. Duro was the one who negotiated your release. Heracleo was so charmed by him, and his wit, he decided to let you go without some elaborate rouse or ceremony that would’ve cost us time and coin.”

Auctus knew he spoke the truth, though he didn’t like the hints and reminders of possible past failings. Barca had surely voiced a few of his opinions on Auctus’ manner to Pietros. Auctus knew he wasn’t _good_ in such a relationship. He liked solitary things, and found it easier to confess worries to feathered friends than human ears. He still remained uncertain over _what_ he was forming with Duro, but he still knew the boy bore the bruise of insult and Auctus had put it there.

“I will seek him out now,” Auctus said. He shook his head at Pietros’ nod of approval. “When did our roles become so reversed?”

“I’ve always been the one more knowledgeable of the heart’s woes,” Pietros taunted. “He is in Diona’s tent, helping to mind Elpis.”

Auctus hoped that with the child present words would not become so loud, or so harsh. He did not hesitate to take the worn path to the tent; Auctus had faced worst things than a young barbarian’s justifiable wrath.

He wasn’t prepared for the punch in his gut at the sheer disappointment on Duro’s face when he entered. Diona looked between the two of them and gathered Elpis in her arms. 

“We’ll just go gather some sticks for the fire,” Diona said.

“Fire!” Elpis agreed. Auctus indulgently smiled down at her and kissed her head, and Diona’s cheek, as they passed. 

“It should concern us more that the flames excite her so,” Duro said. He had his back to Auctus as he sorted through a pack. “We will have to move soon. News of Glaber’s search for Spartacus remained on the tongues of many in Neapolis. There is even talk of him recruiting mercenaries for the job. Would some of your old associates be loyal enough to send in as a spy?”

“Mercenaries and loyalty are not often words spoken together,” Auctus said. He cautiously approached Duro. “I offer apologies for my words to you on the ship. They were said without care.”

Duro shrugged. “You speak to many without care. Why should I be so different?”

“Because _you_ are,” Auctus said. “I am not an easy man to know, Duro. I am old, and far too set in my ways. You should turn thought to other aims.”

Duro’s laugh was harsh. “Far too late,” he murmured. It should’ve felt like victory, but it couldn’t when Duro looked so worried. “You _are_ a difficult man; if I had any more sense I’d turn from you and never contemplate about what could be. For the first time in my life though, I’ve chosen someone not for the approval of my brother, family, or clan. I’ve done it for myself alone. I don’t know what is between us now, or what shall come of it, but the prospect is enough to keep me here, even when my better sense tells me to turn from you. So you are stuck with me, Athanasios, whether it pleases you or not.”

Auctus’ breath caught when Duro pronounced his name perfectly, no hint of his barbaric homeland to the sounds. He cupped Duro’s cheek. “You speak my name like a Theban.” It was something even Barca, for all his care, never bothered to learn.

Duro nodded. “Chadara taught me.” He rested his hand on Auctus’ own. “You look terrified.”

“I am beginning to understand there are different kinds of capture,” Auctus admitted.

Duro’s face softened, a pleasant light turning both his eyes and lips to something warm. “I promise better food than the pirates.”

“Anything but salted fish,” Auctus agreed. He let his hand slip from Duro’s own, and then used both to cup the back of his head, feeling the short, soft hair there. “I will miss the braids, but this look suits you.” His fingers glided down to trace the bare skin at the nape of Duro’s neck. “I’m quite taken with it.”

“You still have proper apology to make,” Duro said. He slipped from Auctus’ grasp. “I will not be so easily distracted.”

He wouldn’t either, the stubborn little fuck. “What is your cost?” he asked.

Duro grinned then. “Come on, old man, I would see you and Nasir spar. I need entertainment that is better than the drunken singing of my beloved kin. Then we shall negotiate my terms. I’ve been told at quite masterful at such things.”

A different sort of fear spread through Auctus’ veins at the words. It’d been building for many weeks, this knowledge that whatever was between the two of them was _more_ than anything Auctus known. His own better sense also told him to leave it behind, but he couldn’t, and wouldn’t.


End file.
